#Also the amount of times they said killed or murdered was wild

[peteytheparrot]

The amount of death in the wild robot is crazy 😭 like showing a cute crow and then BEHEADING IT??? is CRAZY ☠️☠️☠️ peak movie 10/10

[redditantisemitism]

Love the person who said Henry Ford's The International Jew was "real" antisemitism unlike the talking points coming from Hamasniks, because I've READ excerpts from The International Jew and uh...

Ford: "This propaganda of pogroms... thousands upon thousands of Jews killed... amounts to nothing except as it illustrates the gullibility of the Press... No one believes this propaganda and governments regularly disprove it."  Where have I heard this recently??? 🤔 Ford: "The Zionist propaganda has always been accepted on the assumption that Palestine is the Jews’ land and that they only need help to go back. It is an historical and political fact that Palestine has not been the Jews’ land for more than 2,000 years... Yet, as the result of a war bargain, it is handed over to them as regardless of the native inhabitants as if Belgium had been handed over to Mexico. Many of the natives are Semites, like the Jews, but they do not want the Jews among them. That is a strange fact for those who use the term “anti-Semitism”; why do real Semites also dislike the Jews? Surely Semites are not victims of “anti-Semitism.”

Ford: "Take anti-Semitism. That is a label which the Jews have industriously pasted up everywhere. If ever it was an effective label its uses are over now. It doesn’t mean anything. Anti-Semitism does not exist, since the thing so named is found among the Semites, too. Semites cannot be anti-Semitic."

And this??? 🤔🤔

Ford: "It is worth while observing the contrasts and similarities between the Gentile and Jewish reaction to this alleged movement to establish a Jewish imperialism over the world. Jewish publicists first deny it without qualification. It is all false, all a lie, all hatched up by enemies of the Jews in order to stir up hatred and murder." And this??? 🤔🤔🤔

Ford: "Anyone who essays to discuss the Jewish Question in the United States or anywhere else must be fully prepared to be regarded as an Anti-Semite, in high-brow language, or in low-brow language, a Jew-baiter... Anti-Semitism is a term which is bandied about too loosely. It ought to be reserved to denote the real anti-Jewish temper of violent prejudice. If used indiscriminately about all who attempt to discuss Jewish characteristics and Jewish world-power, it may in time arrive at the estate of respectability and honor... "

And this??? 🤔🤔🤔🤔

"Henry Ford's work is REAL antisemitism" - like yeah it is, but then why you sound just like him??????

Gasp. You’re telling me antisemitism didn’t begin and end with the shoah???? Wild

[katerinaaqu]

Ruthless Justice

This fic is dedicated to my dear friend @artsofmetamoor as a gift! She had also expressed an interest to the events of the murder of the suitors but I decided to take it into a more tragic level; the excecution of the 12 maids and I added some random emotional scene afterwards! You are warned this fic includes dark themes!

The cries that filled the room were deafening. The young ears of Telemachus could not bear them. The slave women were forced to clean up the room from the corpses of the blasted suitors that nearly killed him and took the kingdom of his father. It was the first time Telemachus had killed. He still couldn’t believe it how easy it had been! It was almost easier than hunting wild goats and deer in the mountains of Ithaca! Some part of him had felt a wild pleasure, almost hedonic gladness, when he had stabbed that first body and continued. This hedonism increased by the happiness he felt that he was helping his father, that he was useful. He felt pleasure for this justice that was finally prevailing in the halls of his house; finally the constant harassment and insults his mother and himself had gone through was punished and he had finally found his father. He had witnessed his brain and his ferocity, his dexterity and cunning first hand! So far he had only heard of it from others that had met him and yet now he had actually seen it before him; his father who was no longer at the prime of youth he had managed to clean the hall of 108 men 10 or even 20 years younger than what he was. Some part of Telemachus wondered; how was his father in his prime? How much more ferocity in battle he possessed? How much more wits and wiles could he loom in short amounts of time?

However now that the first thrill of battle had gone, now they had finished cleaning the chairs of the hall with sponges and water, Telemachus was shocked at their own strength and results. He looked around at the hall that was basically full of wrapped bodies; the bodies that used to belong to vigorous, young nobles and his father now stood at the hall, hard as the stones that built that very palace. Odysseus was not a tall man (that much was a surprise to Telemachus, for from the conversations he had heard about his father’s strength and name he had expected him to be as tall as he was, perhaps taller), he barely stood at average height, maybe a little less, but his physique showed the power that his hardships built upon him. His raven hair, which had already started turning silver from time and hardships, was curly like his own and long till his shoulders; those strong shoulders burnt by sea and sun. A thick bushy beard was hiding a strong jaw line and mouth shut tightly closed. However Telemachus particularly noticed his stone look as the onyx eyes of his seemed soulless like glass even if they burnt with hatred and anger. Right now he could see before him a man who lived up to his name; “The Anger Bringer”. Odysseus was indeed enraged; that much Telemachus could tell. The almost full day of slaughter seemed to have created a curst thick like salt upon his face, just as thick was the blood that had splattered it, the blood he didn’t have much time to clean. And yet, despite all that, he seemed to stand naturally within that chaos; like only a war veteran would stand naturally amongst corpses and cries. He remained there as the lamenting women were literally dragged and pushed at his feet as he stood at the podium of the throne. He seemed like a judge; a ruthless judge ready to pass judgment. Telemachus had seen him angry, hopeful, crying, tender and then ruthless in his killing but now he was truly disturbed at the shadow that had passed over his face. He saw then the one that had come from war; the Sacker of Cities… Odysseus looked down at the maidens crying and struggling, as if they were insects.

“I took you to my home…” he said, his voice cold as ice and sharp as a knife, “I gave you a bed, fed you, dressed you…made sure you would want of nothing while you were under my roof… I respected your wishes…never mistreated you and this is how you repay me? By mingling with my enemies…the very men that wished to violently claim my wife and kill my son?”

Every word was a hammer upon a nail. Telemachus felt a shiver down his spine. He wouldn’t want to be to the other end of that look that was for sure! The women seemed pale like bed sheets; like the sheets that were covering the bodies they had gathered with their own very hands. He saw the other two helpers of theirs; the two herders Eumaeus and Philoetius, standing over the crying maidens, watching at their master with pride. Telemachus had never seen so much wild triumph to the old face of Eumaeus’s before. Never.

“Eumaeus….” Odysseus addressed him, “What is the punishment for treason?”

“Death, my lord” his voice didn’t even hesitate

“Quite so…” Odysseus nodded.

He glared at the slave girls like a hawk.

“Normally I should drag you all out and stone you to death!”

Odysseus didn’t have to yell. All he needed was to speak in that low voice that boiled with anger, like the bubbling water in a cauldron. And yet that was more than enough to emphasize his anger.

“However we have caused enough ruin already! And I shall not even spare one single sacred stone of this palace for you!”

One could wonder whether he was about to say he would sell them away or something of similar manner, which would already be cruel enough. However the king of Ithaca said;

“Philoetius! Bring me a long piece of rope! Eumaeus, help me bring these treacherous women out! They shall be hanged!”

The word sounded as terrible as I was clear and the women broke to a woe Telemachus had never heard before (and, by gods, had he heard enough woe in his house ever since he was a baby!). The screeches and the cries they released along with their already blood-painted hands trying to claw themselves out of the swine herder’s strong grip, nearly made him throw up.

“Father!” he protested, “you can’t be serious! They are just helpless women!”

His father’s onyx eyes stuck within his own and Telemachus felt that same shiver down his spine. There was fire in those obsidian eyes! The same fire of earth that had forged the volcanic glass that gave his eyes their color seemed to be now burning deep inside those black orbs; it was though a cold fire that burnt like the ice burns the skin!

“Is the betrayal of a woman less serious than the betrayal of a man?” his voice was sharp as a broken sword; sharpness you wouldn’t know where it would cut you the worst; the actual blade or the broken tip

“N-No…” Telemachus stammered, “B-But…”

His voice was being drowned by the shrieks of the women. He couldn’t stand it.

“Does the dagger being wielded by a woman draw less blood when it stabs you in the back than the one wielded by a man?”

“Father please!”

“Stay back, Telemachus!” his father commanded, pushing him out of his way, “You are not to see this!”

Telemachus felt his heart clench but he held his ground.

“No, father, I shall help you” he said determined, “If I am to become king of this land, I must help justice prevail!”

His father eyed him once more but Telemachus stood his ground. He was Odysseades Telemachus. He had to live up to his father’s legacy. Odysseus eyed him in wonder for one second but he did not protest his request any further. Part of Telemachus had wished he had. However he knew he had to be strong and stand by his father’s side. The cries of the female voices still haunted his ears as they went out to the trees of the garden. Odysseus pointed towards the direction of one of the trees. Telemachus gulped. He knew that tree. He had played so many times around it when he was a kid! He had named it “Troy” at some point, running around with his horse (in other words a stick he fantasized to be his horse when he was five) and he would yell at the people of Troy to open their gates for him, like he had imagined his father would be doing, on occasions scaring the birds that sat on the branches. As he grew older he would climb and sit on them, joining those birds, and looking over to the horizon as if waiting for a ship to appear, as if waiting to see the sails of the 12 ships of Ithaca arriving.

How weird indeed that Odysseus chose that particular tree for the execution hall to be built behind it! Telemachus never made that connection so strongly before!

As the men dragged the women out to their final spot; behind that said tree lay the dome of court where a small, confided space, where the women tied up with one single piece of rope from the throats like cattle being led for slaughter were crying and moaning. Telemachus felt his stomach turn. Oh, Athena, he prayed silently, please give me strength to do what I must! He felt then a gentle touch upon his shoulder; like the sun warming him with his rays. His racing heart slowed a bit in beat and he breathed in deeply. Yes, he could feel Athena’s reminder of his own strength. Yes, he had to do it. He was his father’s son. No one dared to speak at that moment. Apart from the endless woe of the women that were about to be executed, it almost felt like a macabre ritual that was about to happen. The women were forced to their final resting place; the narrow hall that was closed up by the neatherd and the swineherd. Telemachus held onto the end with both hands and sighed again, feeling weirdly calm. It was as if all his essence had gone numb. He was self-conscious that his father was looking at him. He almost felt him regretful as if he tried to release him from his task but Telemachus made a mechanical move with his head to stop him. I am Odysseiades Telemachus, he thought, this is my duty! Instinctually he looked towards the sky.

“May this be no clean death…” he heard himself whispering, breaking the silence and the cries of the women, “…that I take the lives of these women…for they were wishing for my head…both mine and my mother’s…when they betrayed us and lay with the suitors…”

His father made half a step forward. Telemachus had made his resolve

He threw the rope over the dome and pulled with all his might.

The cries stopped to give their place to chocking sounds.

Telemachus didn’t cry. He only sighed and closed his eyes.

Soon the haunting sounds stopped.

There was only the creaking of the swinging rope…

~ ~ ~

Telemachus chocked and coughed as he threw up the little contents of his stomach behind a bush. How strange, he thought, he didn’t feel the need to do that when he killed all those men he hated by his father’s side and yet he reacted upon an execution he performed with his own hands. It was, maybe, because he always learnt to respect women and protect them. Quite frankly he never raised a hand against a woman before in his life. And now he had, with one fateful move he had removed the lives of 12 women he considered helpless. And yet that moment of clarity it was as if Athena was speaking through him; these women are not innocent, he thought she said to him, they betrayed you and your father, they betrayed your mother’s secrets and led to more torment to her. They conspired to kill you.

“Then why…?” Telemachus thought, “Why was this so difficult?”

He felt two warm, calloused hands on his shoulders and looked up. He faced the tired look of his father’s; his face full of the blood of the victims they had killed. In one moment Telemachus felt self-conscious and realized he could possibly look similar to this. He turned his look away in shame. What would his father think? What would he say for his weakness? Instead, though, he heard him whisper:

“I am so proud of you, my son…” the voice echoed somewhere in his soul, “I understand that was not an easy decision to make…”

“F-Forgive me…f-father…” Telemachus stammered trying to stop the sobs that were chocking him, “I…I wasn’t strong enough…”

“You’re wrong, Telemachus” his voice was whispery and yet adamant, “You are strong, much stronger than any man I have seen so far. I understand the task that I placed upon you was not a pretty one or a pleasant one. And yet you fulfilled it with the bravery that many men didn’t show in thousands of wars. I am proud of you…”

Telemachus realized what had bothered him so much; his father indeed didn’t seem to separate women from men before the ruthless justice he threw upon them. Telemachus was taught to protect and respect women. However when Odysseus arrived at the hall and ordered the demise of 12 women with hardly even blinking disturbed him. How much had he changed? This was not the father that his mother was describing…nay, he wasn’t the father he had met in the hut of the swine herder that embraced him and kissed him like he were his own soul. He saw some of that father he met right now, to the father trying to console him but before? A few minutes prior he saw an executioner; not the father he knew and loved.

“But how much do I know him, really…?” Telemachus realized, “I first saw his face a few days ago… What kind of man is he? Really?”

Odysseus patted his son on his shoulders and helped him straighten himself. They walked past the tree where the women still hanged like doves from a hunter’s stick. Telemachus couldn’t look up at the blackened and bloated faces of death. Not Odysseus. Odysseus looked up steadily and steadfast. There hardly was a reaction on his face apart from a wrinkle playing between his eyes. He seemed tired, sure, he wasn’t feeling pleasure he wasn’t smiling and yet Telemachus wondered; does this man have nerves of steel or a heart of stone to look up so calmly? How much horror had he seen so that this gruesome sight wouldn’t make him avert his eyes?

“How…?” he whispered, “How can you take this…?”

His father was silent for one second until he finally decided to talk.

“One can get awfully accustomed to the face of death…when they have seen so plenty of it…”

His voice was almost dead; as if he was just stating a simple fact such as that the sun rises from the east rather than talking about the lives of people. That rubbed Telemachus in the wrong places even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“Sometimes…” Odysseus continued, “I feel like my heart has turned into stone… Sometimes I feel like it has no more space apart from you Telemachus…”

It took him a few seconds to realize what his father had just said. Perhaps not even Odysseus himself had realized it!

“What about mother, father? What about her?”

There was silence for one second. However that silence seemed to Telemachus more cruel than any other eternity in Hades’s kingdom!

“Father!” he urged

“Of course, your mother too…” Odysseus finally whispered, “I love her more than life itself! I did everything I could so I can come back to her…to you…”

“You doubted her!” Telemachus whispered in cruel realization, “Oh, gods! I don’t believe it! You doubted her! Even after everything she went through for you!”

“No!” Odysseus immediately retorted, “No, I didn’t doubt her! Not really…it is just…”

“Just what? I don’t believe you! After all these years she waited!”

“I know this” Odysseus retorted almost calmly, “Or rather I absolutely know now. However I needed to make sure…beyond any shade of doubt. This is why Athena encouraged me to hide who I was from your mother, even if it tore me apart inside…”

“But…why…?” Telemachus was almost in tears and he was struggling really hard to keep them under control. “Why would you even doubt her so?”

They had spent years on their own and for as long as he could remember his mother was always waiting, crying and expecting a miracle. He didn’t remember one day to see his mother genuinely happy. She was smiling or complimenting his accomplishments but he had never seen her truly happy; all their life was darkened by the shadow of his father’s absence; of the lack of information whether he lived or not and now his father said that he had doubt, no matter how small it was?! Odysseus sighed deeply and looked at his son. His eyes were almost pleading even if his voice was steady.

“Son…” he said gravely, “I spent years out there…years of ordeals and pain and…many of them changed me… I cannot say much…not now…however there was someone…a woman…”

He gulped. He almost seemed ready to cry himself.

“She…she did unspeakable things to me…for years I endured hoping to come back to you and your mother… She…she kept on planting doubts in my head for years… I didn’t believe her…I didn’t want to believe her! And yet…yet all those years… Telemachus I couldn’t do otherwise! My brain was rejecting what my heart knew… And so I had to make these two come together… I had to…! Please! Perhaps one day I will be able to explain to you…and then you will understand…”

His father began walking away but Telemachus, in the heat of adrenaline and battle didn’t seem ready to let go. Not yet.

“Does this have to do with some goddess Calypso?”

His father froze and then he saw him turn around and saw another emotion he never saw before; fear. There was pure terror on his face. All color had left it; his eyes as wide as plates.

“Where did you hear that name!?” his father croaked out, “Telemachus! Where?!”

“Father…” Telemachus was more concerned and surprised than pitiful at that moment, “Look at you! You’re pale! You didn’t turn pallid when you ordered the execution of these women and yet you lost all color at the name of that woman!”

“Telemachus!” Odysseus called out desperately

“Tell me what happened father! What does this woman have to do with this?”

“I can’t!”

“Please tell me! What did that woman do to you to make you doubt your own wife?!”

“I can’t! I CAN’T!” Odysseus’s voice rose in a constant crescendo, he held his head with both hands as if suddenly his head was splitting in two

“Father, please!” Telemachus urged, “Who is that woman? Who is Calypso?”

“Telemachus!” Odysseus grabbed the shoulders of his son

Telemachus nearly whelped feeling the unbelievable strength of those hands, squeezing him in almost bruising grasp but he didn’t make a sound. He stood his ground. He was his father’s son.

“Where did you hear that name?!”

“Y-Your friend told me about it…” Telemachus finally replied, “I traveled, father. I myself tried to find the answers that I was seeking…and in my travels I visited Pylos…and Sparta…there I met your old friend… He said he had a dream in which you were trapped at the island with some goddess Calypso, but he didn’t know more… You remember him, don’t you? Menelaus the king of Sparta…”

“M-Menelaus…”

He took some breaths and he seemed to find his composure. He slowly released his son. Telemachus noticed that indeed some color had returned to his face. How much had that woman done to him to make his father react that way?! How many horrors had this man experienced to the hands of that goddess so that he would turn pale in terror even if he was completely unhinged by more than 100 vigorous men?

“Yes…of course I remember… Menelaus…he was one of my closest friends…in Troy.” That little recollection somehow calmed him down, “I…I haven’t heard of him for years… Th-Thank gods that he is fine…”

“He is in good health from what I could see…” Telemachus couldn’t lie, he didn’t know much on Menelaus but he knew that ‘fine’ was not exactly the word that described him, “He misses you a lot, you know… He didn’t speak with so warm words for anybody else…”

A sad smile spread to Odysseus’s lips.

“I remember… Menelaus was a really dear friend to me…”

He passed his hand over his face to mop some of his sweat.

“Forgive me, Telemachus…I really didn’t want this feeling to be inside me in the first place but…please understand me…that’s all I ask. That and some time… I will explain everything when I can…”

Telemachus breathed in, defeated.

“I will not pressure you, father…” he finally said, “I understand it is hard. Forgive me for insisting… It is just…”

His father’s arms wrapped around him. That moment he stopped being the heartless judge. He was the caring father again..he was the one Telemachus first met; the caring, protective father…

“Please don’t apologize…” he murmured to his son’s ear, “You have every right to be angry…you have so many questions… I promise you, my son, I will do my best to answer them all…just not yet…I can’t…not yet…”

He pulled back and looked at his son’s eyes.

“Okay?”

Telemachus smiled sadly. Suddenly his own accumulated frustration from the events of the day was evaporated. He needed this breakdown and somehow he knew his father needed it too.

“Okay” he nodded in agreement.

Odysseus patted his shoulders.

“Good.” He said, “Let’s go in now and we must order to get ourselves cleaned now. We must, sooner or later, cleanse ourselves from this murder for we both look like we went mad!”

Telemachus scoffed a bit. He began following his father; never daring to look back towards that grim execution place.

“She didn’t ask, you know…” he suddenly said

Odysseus stopped and turned around.

“What?”

“Mother. When I told her about king Menelaus’s vision, she didn’t ask. She didn’t make any inquiries. She didn’t doubt your integrity not even for one second…”

He saw his father’s chest palpitating almost suddenly. His face almost twisted with another unspoken sob. He turned around, showing Telemachus his back.

“Thank you…” he murmured

Telemachus managed to see one tear running down his father’s bloodstained cheek. There was so much behind that silent cry! Telemachus knew his father was keeping many things inside; perhaps he even blamed himself for everything. He didn’t know. He only hoped that with that last comment, he managed to give him some peace of mind. Apparently either he was right or Odysseus was a very good actor indeed, for he was back to his previous steadfast and calm self. He was once more the king.

The King of Ithaca

The Anger Bringer.

***

Not much to say here. Homer said most of it before me.

I found it disturbing and interesting how it was Telemachus the one to pull the rope of the execution so I thought to add a bit ore angst to this and show this aftermath whirlpool of emotions that could be going on inside hm.

And of course Odysseus and the years of torment, especially Ogygia.

Also in the Odyssey Rhapsody 17 Telemachus does mention to his mother how Menelaus saw Odysseus imprisoned by Calypso but Penelope didn't react to it much. She either believed not much of it in her sorrow or at the same time she felt no need to react at the name of another woman because she trusted her husband.

Hope you like it.

[ilici]

passenger princess.

synopsis: after you and kappa are on the way back from a successful run, stealing whatever you wanted and killing whoever you wanted, the blood of the victims is still all over you, splattered. kappa found it attractive how you always did whatever you wanted, your wildness is what had him drawn to you from the beginning, and now you were his. it was known throughout is cult that you were off limits, from the amount of times people have walked in on you or walked into the kitchen for a meeting and you'd be having sex. now, kappa was growing impatient as you were giving him roadhead.

             imagine.

             ﹋﹋ ˖*ഒ kappa 𝔁 fem!reader

             ˖*ഒ ﹋﹋ word count : 1.6k

             ﹋﹋ ˖*ഒ contents : mention of death , fingering , oral m & f receiving , unprotected , p in v , choking , knife play , blood , and branding.

              ˖ ࣪✮ ! ❝ say you're all mine, touch me under streetlights ❞

             Flashing.

       The flashing lights of the streetlights reflected against the windows of Kappa's car, as she watched as every single light illuminated him, which caused him to glance over her way, "Need something sugar?" his voice husked out, and she slowly shook her head letting a small laugh escape her glossed lips, the same lip gloss that she had just stolen from the couple they had murdered. Kappa reached over and placed his hand on her exposed thigh, as she was wearing a denim skirt that she had stolen from a previous run. "You know I can tell when you're lying, sugar." He said, giving her a warning glance as he had very thin patience, especially when it came to her. Huffing, she pouted, before she placed her hand over his, "I just want something in my mouth."

       Kappa glanced over at her once again, and he chuckled, "You can blow me, sugar. But you'll have to wait till we're back before you get anything else." He told her, as he looked at her face that had blood splattered over it, and she nodded her head eagerly, moving her hand from his and moving both of her hands to undo his belt and she impatiently pulled down his pants, his cock springing free since he didn't wear boxers. Greedily, she wrapped her hand around his base, and she adjusted in her seat as she leaned down and quickly wrapped her glossed lips around his tip. Kappa's cock was huge with a slight curve, and that made her love his cock even more. Kappa was a true hippie, he didn't shave nor was he circumcised.

       His hands on the steering wheel immediately tightened, his knuckles going white as your pretty mouth did wonders to him, and he wasn't necessarily someone who made noises during sex just an occasional grunt and groan. As she moved her head down lower, his dick now going down her throat as she deepthroated him, his hair tickled her nose, and before she could pull back up, Kappa's hand landed on the back of her head holding her there. As she was gagging around his cock, tears streamed down her face. Kappa loved blowjob eyes, he also just loved seeing her cry during sex, because he knew he was doing a good job. Finally, he removed his hand, and she came up coughing she looked at him with glossy eyes, her lips swollen and drool trickled down her chin.

       Letting out an annoyed groan, Kappa quickly pulled the car over and turned it off as he grabbed her by the neck, he pulled her closer, "Fuck waiting." he said through gritted teeth. Giggling in excitement, she went to take off her clothes but Kappa's hand stopped her as he grabbed one of his knives, and motioned for her to lean back against the passenger door. Licking her swollen lips, she leaned back against the passenger door as she was told, and Kappa quickly used his knife to cut her thin shirt off her body. Her breasts were immediately exposed as she never wore bras, and he was about to cut the denim skirt off of her but she shook her head refusing to let him tear up one of her favorite skirts. Scoffing, he impatiently waited till she tossed her skirt to the floorboard.

       Looking at her bare body, his cock twitched and he used his knife to trace along her skin, looking at the healed scar that was adorned on her hip that read out his name. Knicking her skin watching the blood trickle down her stomach, he leaned over in his seat as he began to lightly trace into her skin his name right above her breasts in the middle of her chest. Whimpering, she watches him, as he worked his name into her skin like he was some artist focusing on painting. Once he was finished, he chuckled watching even more blood trickle down her body, and he knew he'd help take care of it later when they returned. Placing the knife down, he leaned forward and hovered over her before he grabbed her by the neck once more, pulling her over the console.

       "Turn around." He demanded, and she quickly moved around until her ass was propped up on the console, and he grabbed her by her ankles pulling her halfway onto his lap so her bottom half was on his bare lap and her top half rested against the console. Tracing his fingers up and down her folds, she shuddered at the feeling of his calloused fingers prodding at her entrance. Feeling how wet she was, he smirked as two of his fingers easily slid into her, and she let out a small moan before she started to grip the console when his fingers began to slam against her, and he curled his fingers to hit her sweet spot knowing exactly where it was. Her moans grew louder and needier as he kept abusing her sweet spot. Moaning out strands of his name, he abruptly pulled his fingers away causing her to whine at the loss.

       Moving her up to where her knees rested against the console, and her top half now rested in the passenger side seat, she felt his hands roughly grab her hips, as he lined up to her entrance and quickly slammed into her without warning. Screaming out in pure pleasure, she buried her head into the seat, and her moans began to become muffled as his hips kept colliding with her ass. Reaching for the knife again, he stilled his hips as he was deep inside of her, and she let out a whine from him stopping but she quickly let out a gasp as her back arched even more when she felt him tracing his name into her skin with the knife in the area where a tramp stamp would be. Now she had her own tramp stamp with Kappa's name, and he tossed the knife before he started to plow into her again.

       As the blood trickled down her back down towards her shoulders from the position she was in, he reached up placing his hands in the blood before he landed a smack on her ass looking as he left a bloodied handprint. The amount of blood smeared all over her body, and now against his, he knew he'd have to steal a new vehicle as this one looked like a murder scene. As his hips kept colliding with her, he couldn't get a good grip on her hips now that his hands were bloody and slippery, so he grabbed her hair and pulled it back her moans no longer muffled. As he kept hitting her sweet spot from the slight curve in his cock, he was also bruising her cervix in the process. Her moans were growing louder and her words were now less audible indicating she was growing close.

       Fastening his pace, and slamming into her, he watched as she came undone, her entire body shaking and that was enough for him to finish, his hot cum burying deep inside of her. Slowly pulling out, he looked down as she crawled into the passenger side seat, her body smeared in blood and he smirked. He knew when they arrived back at the base house, everyone would stare at her bloody body which made him smirk even more when two new brandings were added to her body. Before she could begin to relax, he grabbed her by her slippery hips and propped her bottom half back up on the console, and she leaned up on her elbows watching him with curious fucked-out eyes. Her face had some new tears on it as she was growing overstimulated from the pleasure she had received.

       Kappa wasn't one to usually eat someone out, but seeing her covered in blood made him crave a taste. Feeling his breath hit against her cunt, she let out a small whine, and he saw some of his cum leaking out of her and he quickly pushed it back inside of her with his tongue, and she instantly used her bloody hand to tangle in his greasy hair. Pulling at the roots of his hair, as he kept licking around inside of her, he pulled away slightly before he started sucking on her clit, his fingers coming up to slide inside of her. Curling his fingers inside of her, she shuddered at the pleasure, and she arched her back, tugging roughly at his hair which made him let out a low groan. His blue eyes never left her face, as he watched her face contort into ecstasy when she finished around his fingers.

       Pulling his fingers out, he licked his fingers clean and smirked down at her, as she was on the brink of sleeping from how exhausted her body was. Watching her curl up in the seat, he turned the car back on and quickly hit full speed to get back home to clean her wounds and clean the blood off of her. He may not have looked like the kinda guy for aftercare, but he'd do anything for his passenger princess. Once they made it back, he quickly picked up her bare body from the car and walked inside, everyone looking at them as the rest of them had returned way before Kappa and she did. They weren't shocked as Kappa carried her nude, they just watched. Closing the door to the master bedroom, he walked into the connected bathroom and turned the shower on, "Let's get you cleaned up sugar."

tags !

@kappasbbgirl

[bonefall]

what poison/s were used in riverstar's heir at moth's celebration and when bright and flowerstar ate together? suggestion (if you hadn't decided yet): Monkshood/Aconite/Wolfsbane (Aconitum napellus) its a VERY poisonous plant native to the uk and europe, lethal with both ingestion and body contact and has historical use in killing and murder. symptoms appear quickly and death often comes in only a few hours; its a shame it wasn't used in canon lmao

Oh symptoms don't just appear quickly-- Aconite's name is said to be ancient Greek for "Without Dust." That refers to how aconite kills SO quickly that you will not even kick up dust in your death struggle. Death coming in a few hours is from the minimum deadly dosage, any good assassin worth their salt would use more (and take care to mask its bitter taste, it's not a subtle flavor like cyanide is.)

Forget "deathberries." Yew is nothing next to aconite.

Yew's deadly compound, taxine, acts by stopping your heart. Yawn. Aconite targets your heart, liver, kidneys, AND brain all at the same time. It's so potent that handling young roots will make your hands go numb. Only 2 miligrams of the deadly compound, aconitine, is a fatal dose in a human being; a single grain of rice weighs 20 miligrams.

Anon, my friend, you undersold aconite. It's not just a very poisonous plant in Europe, aconitine is top 5 deadliest poisons period. Members of the aconite family are widespread through the northern hemisphere-- indigenous Alaskan people have used it to hunt whales for tens of thousands of years. Its toxic properties break down within 24 hours, leaving the meat completely safe to eat.

So naturally, suggestion accepted. This is going to be SICK.

Especially since no one will be able to tell what happened. It looks like every major poison because it is. You might assume it was some kind of toxic cocktail from the symptoms. Convulsions, rapid heartrate, vomiting, numbness. It looks like yew, nightshade, and bryony all at once.

It'll be very easy for Bright Whisker to survive this and shake off suspicion simply by poisoning herself with a small amount of something else. If I go with Maple Whisker being a sibling instead of a cousin, I could have her simply join their meal a little late and realize that her mouth feels numb, just as everyone else enters convulsions, so she spits it out.

(Autism win! Avoided a poisoning because texture bad! Maybe she was waiting for the food to cool down too lmao)

And LASTLY... Aconite is Wolf's Bane. I think this is a really cool place to see the earliest incarnation of the Wolf Motif that will later show up in Bluestar's family. It tickles my brain a bit to think of Flowerstar somehow having the "hood" shape of the flower, and then she loses her first life in her gambit to poison the wolf among sheep.

I also had a stroke of inspiration and had an idea for one of the BB!DOTC cats, too. Dappled Pelt gets massively neglected in canon, imo, and I could set up the wolf thing even earlier. African Wild Dog time (painted wolf.)

[halcome]

Oh gods I didn't even realize it was Saturday, new Wild Life ep let's go!!! Wooo!!!

(reacting as I watch below)

Gonna do my heart a favor and just edit this post as I watch, seems to be a calm session but with the speed mechanics its only a matter of time before I see someone run off a cliff. Still recovering from the snails, small morsels of content are a must.

Grian's Wild Life Ep. 4

Grian and Mumbo doing their best to help Skizz murder is a delight as always, but I feel like their plans always seem to benefit them in the end and not Skizz.

Already terrified of the minecart cannon Grian made and I dont think theyre fast enough yet to launch it far.

Made some breakfast, some scrambled eggs with peppers and a side of, OMG SCAR

I probs should've guessed he'd immediately put a tnt minecart down to test it but everyone was so close by, gave me a lil scare. Also does Mumbo not have self preservation instincts? Cause everyone backed up but he kept staring at it, barely inching away. Guessing his redstone and curiosity instincts were stronger than his need to stay yellow.

Grian: Mumbo, is the moon fast?

Omg he said the line!

If I remember correctly speed + tnt minecart = more power, Grian holding up a shield was a good effort but dear lord that was quite the death.

Genuinely, what on earth just happened?

Mumbo died the most Looney Toon death I've ever seen, running for water and turned to ash. Scar was an absolute menace too, shooting Grian off that ledge was a very Hot Guy move. I wonder if he'll make it to the very end? I know Grian's targeting Scar now but something tells me he's gonna survive by sheer dumb luck.

SmallishBeans' Wild Life Ep. 4

Cool guys don't look at explosions! Something, something, TNT takes 4 seconds to explode. Timings are demolished.

8:00 Joel on his ballerina arc.

Took a break to finish homework, came back to Jimmy trying to take a chunk out of Joel's "somewhere" ??? Usual shenanigans it seems.

Seen Skizz frolicking in the sunflowers twice now from 2 different viewpoints, he's really enjoying his time on a death game server, proud of em.

Absolutely loving how proud everyone is of Mumbo getting a kill, always nice to see the little reminders that even though this is a death game of bloodshed and betrayal they're still friends in the end. Though I have seen clips of Bdubs holding grudges, so while everyone is friend shaped, they are not forgive and forget shaped.

Joel giving so many diamonds to Lizzie is incredible. Man's forever smitten with his missus. Lizzie the absolute queen!

Absolute chaos at the end with how Joel edited it. I know it was technical difficulties but it just fits so well with how chaotic it was.

Mumbo Jumbo's Wild Life Ep. 4

I know Mumbo placed the creeper from Grian's POV but goodness he's a little rascal given the chance.

Omg that Scott kill though was smooth as heck. He waited so long and it paid off big time. Little block break and plop, there goes the Scott! Absolutely loved how simple it went, the silence from Scott as his brain caught up to him was amazing too. I gotta watch his POV next for sure!

Is it just me or is Mumbo really going after Scott? Tasted blood and immediately became addicted to the one source. If Mumbo ends up being the reason Scott's out of the series ima laugh. The amount of paranoia Scott would have by the end of it would be immense.

And he gave up... Welp, can't wait to see him try and kill Gem next session!

[shroomyifiy]

Kinda late but episode 15 dropped

Hi guys, I just finished watching the episode :)

Spoilers for Chapter 2, Episode 15 Below!

I CALLED IT!!!

I fucking called it baby, wooo!! (rip Ace stans, it really was Aceover for you all)

Man, what a wild ride this has been. I will miss Ace, but man, he was great this episode, and this chapter as a whole. And if he was going to die, this was the perfect time to do so.

Alright, breakdown time!

How much stuff did Shroomy get right?

A surprising amount, actually! Tbf, it was all kinda obvious when looking at it, but still.

-Ace took the tape (I called it being grabbed possibly for first aid, and also murder attempt, although I said to kill Nico)

-Ace isn’t as stupid as everyone thought (Man, that one was personal. Intelligence is pretty subjective in all honesty, and I stand by the ‘no one is truly dumb’ in DRDT, everyone here is equally stupid /j)

-Ace figured the murder method out later (No but seriously, no one would know by looking around for ~5 minutes. Maybe Charles but he would be out of commission at the sight of blood so no)

-Ace tied Arei’s hands because he was able to fight back (Self explanatory; I did like how Teruko calls him out for having fought back, so he would know to tie her wrists)

-Ace was trying to frame Nico (This one was obvious, but it at least explains the fish)

-Ball of clothes to get rope up and broken lights (I didn’t figure out the slingshot, but otherwise was spot on. To the person who first figured it out, kudos for your massive brain)

-Ace being sneaky and eavesdropping (yeah 👍 we been knew this, but hey it was relevant)

I think that’s all I directly called out. This is not me bragging or anything, but I was cool seeing my thoughts come true (even if body placements were not relevant to the ace murder scene, rip)

Moving on to my favorite section~

Thematics and Parallels

God, yknow, I think this is just going to become my thing atp. What can I say? As a writer, I do love some silly themes and parallels

But anyways I was right about this!!! The Ace-Arei and Ace-Teruko parallels were not the ramblings of a crazy person! They meant something!!

Ace wanting to change, but not having the strength to do so is tragic. God he is so tragic, everyone is in this cast, it’s why I love them all.

I’ll probably end up making a whole separate post about the parallels after episode 16 drops, just for completion sake. I want to have all the cards available for that, yknow?

But man, Teruko being both sympathetic to Ace about his injury but also trying desperately to get him to defend himself is so sad. Like girl completely understands, they are besties your honor.

And by god the VAs blew it out of the park!!! Man, next week is going to be something, huh?

Back on topic

Look, I get a lot of people are sad to see Ace go, as they wanted to see him grow. Unfortunately, this is a death game, and people with amazing potential are always killed off.

In fact, it’s kinda a running trend in drdt (goes to show how good the writing is, even if you personally disagree with it)

Xander, who could have been an amazing support and leader to the group, defending justice and the innocent

Min, a smart girl who also could have been a good support character and grow to see more to life than just studying

Arei, who could have become good friends (girlfriends) with Eden, who could have become a better person like she wanted to

Ace, who could have grown to be more brave and make more connections, who could have survived despite all odds against him

It’s tragic that any of them had to die so soon. It’s tragic that none of them got to survive the killing game. It’s tragic any of them are here to start with.

But, someone has to die. It’s a death game after all, not everyone can survive. Some characters and potential arcs have to be sacrificed to tell the story you want to tell.

And isn’t it ironic that both the killers so far (Min and Ace) killed because of their fear of death?

Min, who came across Xander over Teruko’s body, was scared and panicked because she thought he would kill her too.

Ace, who no one liked and who was almost murdered, knowing that someone else would likely try again.

Min, who cried and denied it was her, even when caught red handed. Ace, who gave up after he was truly backed into a corner. Two people, pleading for their lives because, by god, they want to live.

It’s actually something so interesting about drdt, because MonoTV’s motives have nothing to do with it. Everyone is just scared of dying, which is really realistic for this situation. Of course more people are going to kill because they don’t want to die.

(wait did I just start making Min-Ace parallels? Oh goddammit)

Overall thoughts (for now anyways)

I loved this episode, it was basically the highlight of my horrible day. I’m excited to see where the story goes from here, and I cannot wait for the bonus episodes for Arei and Ace.

I know a lot of people were not as happy with the conclusion of the case, understandable if your favorite was Ace. But I do have to remind everyone to be respectful about writing choices drdtdev has made. You may not like it, but they know the story they want to tell more than any of us do. And oh boy, does this story seem like a good one.

This was kinda short, and less analytical, but guys I am actually really fucking tired. I’ve been up for way too long and got like, 2 hours of sleep.

Expect me to do another post soon. Idk when, but probably before next Friday.

I have so much I want to say because ahhhhh, I love this series!!!!

Feel free to leave your thoughts here as well!

Bye for now, have a wonderful day!

[epikonionman]

I was planning on doing all of the ICP jokers cards, but dear god were the first just not worth the rating.

Intro: Gets the point across of what the riddle box does in the whole innerworkings of the dark carnival. Freebie 10/10 for successfully introducing a jack in the box

Riddle Box: Such a fun song, has a bunch of elements with the instrumental. There isn’t a moment where I feel like it’s only basic beats without any instrumental, an overall good first actual music track on this album. 8/10 only because there are other songs in this album that are leagues better, in the sense that they’re better than good. I still adore this song.

The Show Must Go On: Another very fun song. The spring-y sounds in the instrumental I really like, as well as the horn additions while voice modded dude is talking about his village and some wicked clowns. Another song I hold dear just because of the instrumental alone, the lyrics add like, a billion more better aspects with its gang banger speech, and ballsack yo-yo-ing. 8.5/10 probably in my top 5 songs of the whole album, of course there are still better tracks.

Chicken Huntin’ (Slaughter House Mix): An objectively better version of Chicken Huntin’ on Ringmaster. That version sounded tired, like they could care less about killing willy willy chicken neck and fat fucking redneck chicken boy. While this song sounds like they love slaughtering hillbillies more than they do living itself, which is what makes it one of the top 5 tracks of this album, its not boring. 9/10

Interview: Incredibly insightful, I never got so much information about the group before I had listened to this. Gets 10/10 for funny sound effects and because it comes before Toy Box.

Toy Box. Oh Toy Box. This song is amazing to me, its got peewee herman murder of classmates with toys. Its got an awesome instrumental with an even  better beat to it. The only reason why I am docking points from this song is because of the obnoxiously long end with 7.5/10

Cemetary Girl: Quite the love song. I adore this song so much, it was my first exposure to ICP and god am I happy this was my first impression. It has a nice instrumental that I adore, and the (according to genius chorus, i dont know how to identify this stuff) that sounds nice. 10/10, it gets the nostalgia and bias bonus. Also is me and @samsonitesdomain

3 Rings: An awesome song, fun to sing along to. Love to hear about J’s extendable neck, or how the doctor who pulled shaggy out of his mother completely fucked up his dex roll and dropped him. Though I do have to dock points because of nerd. Said nerd was born without a wang but never had a nutsack, but immediately after said that theres two balls hanging without protection. Make up your mind damn it, do you have a penis or testicles.

Headless Boogie: I adore this song so FUCKING MUCH, it is such a good song that I adore so much. The amount of times I’ve flailed around my living space to this song is almost unhealthy I love this song so much. 10/10, no questions asked. Love this track.

The Joker’s Wild: I initially didn’t like this song actually, it was probably one of my least favorites for a while. Though it eventually grew on me, it has a fun beat, and funny lyrics. I never knew someones mother committed the acts previously believed to have been performed by Jeffery Dahmer. 8/10.

Dead Body Man: Another song that Had to grow on me, originally I REALLY didn’t like this song, I don’t know why exactly, the song isn’t particularly terribile, its got a nice instrumental that has an actual eerie feel, which, if theres one thing i appreciate more than Shaggy screaming random shit, its a eerie ICP song.8.5/10

Lil Somthin’ Somthin’: Love the lyrics in this song, they flow very very very very nicely with the instrumental. I also appreciate that J regrets the edp-esque verse. Gotta also appreciate that the only reason there is old 60s pornographic vinyls sampled on here is because mike e clark just so happened to have a shit ton. 9/10, this song also happens to be me and @samsonitesdomain

Ol’ Evil Eye: I love this song because i love edgar allen poe. While the song itself has an incredibly different story, it still has an old rotting man with a bad eye, and a murderous intent at the sight of said eye. I also enjoy the interludes of the telltale heart in between. 10/10, love poe, love the song, hate that fuckin old dude.

12: An eerie ICP song, i love it. If there is one song i wouldnt listen to at 1 in the morning (which is about what time it is at the time of writing this) is probably this song, though i still love it. I love the instrumental and the lyrics, drawers down throats included. Also love how it transitions to the killiing fields. 9/10

The Killing Fields: Another eerie ICP song that i love, it definitely captures what i think of when i think of a place named the killing fields. The bells are also a very nice touch, interludes are also appreciated, add to the eerieness. 9/10 i am properly scared and wont be sleeping for hours.

I’m Coming Home: Love the horns, as someone who has lived in their life in the gutter before. I gotta love this song. Sometimes i wonder if going back to said gutter would be nice. This song has such a nice instrumental that i absolutely adore, it just has such a specific feeling that i can’t describe and i love it. 10/10, AAAAAAAAAAAA i love this song

[winter-dayz]

Catch 'em, kill 'em

Pairing: Kim Jennie x Reader Amityville Horror AU Genre: Horror; Smut Words: 2500 Warnings: dead dove: do not eat; emetophobia; gore; major character death; murder; sexual content (choking mentioned, marking, safe words, slight pain play, thigh riding); strong language; suicide; violence

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

“I do have to inform you that the house has a bit of a… macabre history to it…” The realtor hesitated.

Jennie hummed, continuing to look up at the side of the house and mumbling about updates, but your attention snapped to the real estate agent. “What do you mean?”

The woman cleared her throat, “Well… A man killed his entire family here. He claimed he heard voices that told him to do it. And, the last tenants said they had some issues too. They only stayed for a very short while.”

You nodded, “What kind of issues? I mean, we were planning to renovate anyway so if there were electrical or plum–”

“Uh, no, no… More paranormal kind of issues…” The woman spoke in a hushed tone as if she were afraid someone would overhear your conversation. “The Lutz’ claimed that the house was driving George crazy so they left before even living here for a month… They left all of their stuff behind too. The original owners’ belongings also come with the house.”

“Ahh…” You hummed in understanding.

So, the place was supposedly “haunted,” and no one has wanted to buy it in decades… that was why the price was so low. It was odd that the realtor was trying to drive away a client though. Or, maybe she was one of those types to believe in the supernatural. Either way, there was no way you were passing up on a deal this good. The house was a steal in the area at just over two-hundred thousand for five bedrooms. It definitely needed remodeling, but you could tell your wife was already planning the exterior upgrades.

If you didn’t close on this, she would actually murder you.

You smiled at the agent, “That’s alright. We’re not really believers in that anyway. We’ll take it.”

🎃

The first week in the new house was hectic.

Jennie and you were constantly in and out of the place, trying to set up contracts and get portions of the house sectioned off and cleared out to begin the renovations.

Your original plan had been to use the significant amount you’d saved on buying the rundown house to hire contractors. However, as you’d both been struggling to get people in the immediate area to agree to do the work, you’d settled for hiring a more expensive contractor further out of town to help with the major projects that you couldn’t handle, and instead, Jennie and you would complete the rest.

Once that had been settled, the two of you fell back into your normal rhythm. Jennie worked on the exterior and boat house first, while you started clearing out the inside.

During the mornings you spent time apart, working on your respective projects and filled with your own quiet thoughts. It could be annoying to work in the house by yourself since the doors were old and would constantly creak open or accidentally lock when you didn’t want them to. It made moving big furniture and boxes a bit difficult alone, but you managed.

You met for a peaceful lunch on the porch, and then worked the warm afternoons on updating the electrical systems in the basement closet. It was a bitch to figure out, but you still got it done. Even if it drove you both a little crazy to be in the dark, tight space, arguing while trying not to unintentionally electrocute yourselves.

The evenings were spent laughing together over dinner, watching a movie on your laptop, and falling asleep exhausted. Jennie always seemed to wake up at some point in the night though, complaining about loud bangs coming from the attic or one of the other bedrooms, and subsequently shook you awake too. You took turns making sure wild animals hadn’t gotten into the house. There never was anything and, by the end of the week, you’d both surmised that the piping was much worse than originally anticipated and the sound must’ve been them settling at night.

Sleepily, you assured Jennie that you’d urge the plumber to come out sooner than later.

🎃

The first time something “off” happened, you didn’t really notice. The power had cut off in the middle of the day, shutting down both of your power tools, and the temperature began to drop rapidly. It was odd for the season, but you were working in a drafty part of the house.

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had just hired an electrician,” Jennie snarked, holding the flashlight for you while you tried to fix the breaker in the basement.

“I told you. No one in the area would come out here. They all think this place is haunted. If I hadn’t done it myself, we would’ve been without power for a few more weeks until someone from two towns over showed up.” You snapped back.

It had been like that the past few days. The renovations had proven to be a bit more than either of you had thought, and without much help from contractors or professionals, you had both been extremely stressed. Snapping at each other, petty remarks, and sarcasm became your chosen forms of communication since moving in.

The day after the electricity was finally restored properly, you found yourself in bed wasted. And, of course, this was the second time something obviously supernatural occurred.

Another snarky remark from Jennie led you to grabbing the nearest liquor bottle and storming off. When you woke up in bed later, barely dressed and still rather drunk, it was to the feeling of your wife straddling you. Her face was blurry and obscured in your tipsy-vision, but your hands felt their way up her trim waist regardless. Her own hands, cold to the touch so she must’ve been working in the basement or attic, slid over your chest, flicking your nipples in their path. You moaned softly as her hands came to rest around your neck.

And then she started choking you. It was nice at first, something you both liked to indulge in on occasion, but as lightheadedness in combination with your already drunken mind made you start to see spots, you rasped out your safe word.

Jennie didn’t stop.

You started yelling at her to stop, reiterating your safe word, best you could as your vision blacked; and when you felt her weight leave your waist, you stumbled to the bathroom to gulp down cold water and soothe your burning throat and chest.

Dragging yourself back into the bedroom, you found Jennie hovering in the hallway door looking concerned and confused.

“I told you to stop!” You screamed at her.

“What are you talking about?” She questioned back, her face snapping from confusion to irritation at your tone.

You sneered in condescension, “Oh? Are you too stupid to understand safe words now? Whatever. I’ll sleep in another room tonight.” She scowled as you pushed past her to sleep off the rest of the alcohol but didn’t argue further.

The third time something truly paranormal transpired in your new home, you saw it. You saw it, and you nearly shit yourself.

After your last fight, or rather you scolding Jennie on sexual boundaries, you had been sleeping elsewhere. Upon hearing loud sobs one night, you assumed it was Jennie and went to check on her, but she was nowhere to be found in your room or bathroom.

Wandering down the hall to one of the other bedrooms, the cries became louder, but they were off. They didn’t sound like your wife; it sounded like a child crying. Peeking into the room, you saw a little girl curled into a ball on the floor crying.

“Hey… Are you okay? How did you get here?”

The girl’s cries stopped, and her head snapped around to you. Her eyes were vacant and lips purple; her skin was pale and lifeless with dark black veins contrasting deeply; in her forehead was a dark red, shotgun wound.

The girl opened her mouth and let out a shriek before crawling rapidly towards you. You screamed and stumbled backwards into the hall, running for the stairs, but the girl was faster. As she grabbed your ankle, you fell forward to tumble down the stairs, and then you jolted upright.

Sweat poured down your face, breathing heavy, and you glanced around the bedroom you had been sleeping in.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jennie whispered, kneeling by the bed you were in. You jolted away from her as your nightmare played back in your mind. She hushed you and moved to hold you anyway.

After several long minutes in silence, you whispered, “This house is stressing me out, Ni…”

“I know, babe. Let’s just have a day tomorrow. No work, no remodeling. Just us together, yeah?”

“Yeah…” This house was driving you crazy.

🎃

Days turned to weeks. Weeks turned into months.

The arguments continued, heightened even. The nightmares grew more terrifying and realistic. Your sanity thinned.

At your breaking point, you asked Jennie to move out with you. She refused. In the heat of the fight, you threatened divorce. You couldn’t take much more of this. She begged you to stay, give her and the house another chance. She insisted it was still just the stress taking a toll on your relationship, on your mental health. You just needed a night out to reconnect, she said.

And maybe you did.

The two of you went out into the town—got dolled up and had dinner at a nice restaurant, took a stroll in the park, and watched the sun set at the docks.

It was nice, and you fell in love with your wife all over again.

Coming home, feeling refreshed and giggling, you both made your way to your bedroom, stumbling as you couldn’t take your hands off one another. Clothes were stripped and discarded on your way, mouths hardly leaving one another’s skin.

You both fell to the bed, fighting for dominance as was normal for you, but Jennie ended up on top. She straddled one of your thighs, grinding down when you tensed the muscle, while you sat up, sucking dark, purple marks on her neck and chest.

Jennie continued taking her own pleasure, and you reached down and harshly pinched her clit. She moaned loudly, always a bit of a glutton for pain, and urged you to do it again.

One hand remained on her thin waist, helping her slide against your thigh as she lost herself to her own pleasure; the other hand moved up to pinch and circle her nipple. When it had peaked, you bit down as rough as you knew she could take. She screamed and shook.

You smiled against her breast and glanced up, excited to see your love in ecstasy after being distant.

Instead, you let out your own blood-curdling scream.

Jennie sat above you, neck snapped at an unnatural angle. Her eyes whited out, mouth dripping with black rot. Her exposed chest ripped open, heart still pumping as blood poured out and covered you both.

You sobbed and tossed Jennie onto the ground. She twitched, her head snapping up and falling to the other side.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Jennie gurgled, viscous black seeping down from her mouth and mixing with the clotting blood splattered across her chest.

You grabbed your stomach, covering your mouth before you could vomit on yourself, and felt wetness there. Pulling your hand away from your face, it was covered in thick, warm blood. You felt yourself choke on bile.

Coughing—choking—you gagged. Nothing came up, but you still felt so ill.

Sick. Tired. Crazy.

The house had driven you crazy. And not the normal kind from stupid stress either.

The house was fucking haunted, and it wanted to drag you to hell with whatever demons lived within.

🎃

Jennie was fine. After you hyperventilated and passed out, she took you to the hospital. Your doctor said that you were physically okay, but when you explained what caused you to go into shock, he had you put on a psych hold for a few days.

Nothing happened while you were in the hospital—no visions, no nightmares, no blood or gore or screaming—which only reaffirmed your belief that your house was hell on earth.

Jennie, unfortunately, couldn’t stay. You were worried about her being in that place by herself, but you reassured yourself that it seemed you had been the target of the Amityville House’s hatred anyway. So she would be fine.

She had to be fine.

Jennie was fine.

That’s what you kept reassuring yourself with.

🎃

You wished you had never bought that godforsaken house. You wished you had just bit the bullet—so to speak—and bought somewhere nicer, more expensive, but already fixed up. You wished you had let Jennie be mad about passing on the supernatural sale, but not literally murder you.

When you got out of the hospital, having to call a taxi to take you home since you couldn’t get a hold of your wife, you found that Jennie was not, in fact, fine.

She sat, catatonic, in your living room. You shook her, shouted, even slapped her, but she didn’t respond. You had resolved to call for an ambulance, but as soon as you turned your back, she was gone.

Jennie found you before you found her.

Something dark, evil had taken over your wife. Her eyes were glazed over and bloodshot around the iris. As you called out to her, trying to wake her to her senses, her head just tipped to the side.

Your nightmares came rushing back, and you squeezed your eyes shut hoping it was just another one.

Jennie tsked at you, “C’mon now, babe. It’s no fun if you don’t even run…” Her voice wasn’t garbled this time, but it still sounded wrong. It was missing her sweet lilt, her playfulness. It was scratchy. It almost sounded like another voice laid beneath her own. Mimicking her, but not really her.

You stumbled away, and Jennie advanced with the ax, mumbling “Catch ‘em, kill ‘em…” over and over and over.

It was over rather quickly, all things considered.

Jennie had never been that strong, but she was able to pin you down easily on the floor, burying the hatchet into your chest until it was split open—mimicking the vision that hers had been in your nightmare.

She stumbled backwards off of you and pulled a small gun out her pants’ waistband.

You laid on the ground, your own thick, warm blood gurgling up. You choked on it; you felt ill. You coughed; the blood splattered across your mouth and dripped down your neck right back into your own gaping chest. You would’ve felt bile rise up if you could’ve felt anything at all.

Jennie wrapped her lips around the muzzle of the gun.

She pulled the trigger; you heard the shot, but your vision was gone before you could see her fall.

The house dragged you both down to hell with it.

[sadiecoocoo]

The Shadows are Coming Chp. 3

Summary - Tech learns more about the sickness, Wrecker goes to find his brothers

Word Count - 2226

Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Notes: Happy spooky everybody!!! here's some eerie zombie stuff for you :) I am still going to be posting once a month, sadly I haven't worked on this fic much since the last chapter... Attack on Titan has me a in a chokehold, but that can be good news if you like aot and want a nice gory fic for it soon >:) also I didn't bother editing this chp... so sorry for any errors lol anyways, hope you enjoy!

Tech motioned for Wrecker to lay Echo out on the medical table. The brute gently placed the ARC down, resting his hand on his shoulder before pulling away to give Tech room to work. The splicer immediately got out a medical scanner and checked Echo’s vitals.

He held back a curse, not wanting to alarm Wrecker more than he already was. His brother was strong, but Tech didn’t want to test his limits. Echo was semi-conscious now, his eyes open and blinking as he tried to regain comprehension. Tech much preferred him being asleep, it might have been slowing the sickness. 

He seemed to be recovering for the moment though, Tech would guess that soon enough he would be coherent again. The virus seemed to attack in waves then, each one leaving the host weaker and weaker until it could fully take hold.

He needed to get a sample. He started searching the med-bay, looking for both supplies and any hidden troopers waiting for an opportunity to attack. Their intelligence was astounding, not at all like the zombies that Wrecker continued to insist they were.

Twice now they had waited until they could catch the Batch off guard before they struck. They used the dark to conceal themselves and fell into almost complete silence, similar to a wild tooka when hunting. They were even capable of speech, meaning they retained some humanity despite their now murderous nature. And the focus on forcing other troopers’ helmets off rather than simply killing them is uncannily intelligent.

All of these things showed that there was still something human in those troopers. Maybe that bit of sentience could be awakened again. There was a real possibility of a cure. He just needed the time to make it.

“Wrecker,” Tech cut in, breaking the somber silence that had fallen upon the two. “Please seal the door.” He asked. Sealing it would buy him more time in case the troopers that had yet to attack decided they didn’t want to wait anymore.

“What about the others?” Wrecker asked frantically. Tech suppressed a flinch. He turned back to his brother, fighting for something to say. He let out a rough sigh.

“I have no doubts that they will be alright, however I think I can manage here without you if it would make you feel better to go help them.” He said placatingly. Wrecker seemed to have perked up at that. Tech watched as the bruiser’s head turned from the door then to Echo, who was now sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asked softly. Tech knew that no matter where Wrecker went, he would worry. However, he was not worried about himself, and knew their brothers would need help to make it to this med-bay.

“Yes, you would be most useful going to help Hunter and Crosshair.” Tech assured. He turned away towards one of the counters, opening a cabinet above to search for decent enough supplies.

“Stay safe.” Wrecker said quickly, then Tech heard the swooshing of the door being shut. He released another sigh, hoping that his brothers really would be alright. He knew they could all handle themselves, but if they got infected and he didn’t make the cure in time, there was no amount of combat skills to beat that.

Tech turned to look for an IV. He wasn’t sure what Echo would need, but coming from the nosebleed he had been having, a blood transplant would be useful. He grabbed the stand and rolled it over to Echo’s bed, then went back to look for fluids.

In one cabinet, there was an unruly pile of blood bags. He grabbed several, and started a scan to be sure the virus hadn’t breached the seals. He frowned at the results. All had traces of the virus, and all would only serve to make Echo worse.

As he continued to search the medical room for any samples that the medics should have collected (there was no telling how incompetent these regs would be), he tried to talk to Echo. He really didn’t say anything meaningful, just random facts or things he’d noticed about the base. He just needed to keep Echo coherent.

Sometimes the reg would hum in response, others he would agree and mumble something else he had noticed about the troopers. He seemed to be coming down from his moment of confusion, Tech chose to see that as a good thing.

Both of them had noticed the trooper’s intelligence. Both had agreed that their use of speech seemed to be to lure people in a trap, and that they mainly communicated using the animalistic snarling they had heard before.

“I dunno if you saw it, but the trooper I had pinned before had pale eyes,” He paused, mouth open as he fought for the right words, “like they were dead.” Echo finished with a numb and haunted tone. Tech paused, pressing his lips into a thin line. Echo sounded so tired, it had barely been half an hour, how could a virus have taken hold of their reg so quickly.

Tech didn’t answer for several moments, instead focusing on the samples he had finally been able to find. There was a datapad next to the sealed vials, and Tech powered it up to go over the files that the regs had hopefully written down.

He skimmed over the aurebesh text, not too happy with his findings.

[0500, morning cycle] A new virus has been found in the base, orders were given to keep our buckets on and quarantine ourselves unless showing symptoms. The base was sealed to prevent it from infecting wildlife and further spreading.

- Nash

[0745, morning cycle]  Several troopers have been checking into the infirmary, I have my hands full. Half of my medics are sick too, I’ve confined them and any others showing symptoms to bed rest. Current symptoms include: fever, dizziness, nausea, struggle of breath, slowing heartbeat, excessive nosebleed. Some had rashes on their skin, almost as if the cells were dying; the ones experiencing these symptoms seem to be dealing the worst.

Someone tried to escape the base, the captain got pissed and ordered all the ships to be dismantled. It was probably overkill, but this virus could be fatal, we can’t let it spread.

- Nash

[1030, morning cycle] There’s not a free bed in the infirmary, I’ve had to run from here to the barracks several times. There are only a few troopers not infected, thankfully myself included. Flay, Grim, Jax, and Skeet are the only others that I’m aware of.

- Nash

[1200, afternoon cycle] Some seem to be recovering now, many are regaining their strength. Physical symptoms are waning, but the infected are under a lot of mental strain. I suspect some may be hallucinating or having fever dreams often. Many seem much less aware of their surroundings and are acting almost violent. It seems to be a final affect of the disease, the ones that had gotten through it seem to have recovered, though they are tired. I think everyone should recover soon.

- Nash

[1300, afternoon cycle] I was wrong. I was so, so wrong. They’re all dead. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I thought they were getting better I thought I fixed it I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

- Nash

Tech skipped the rest of the log. It was just those two words repeated over and over again. He moved on to the next.

[1310, afternoon cycle] they got up. They just got up. Oh Force they aren’t the same. There’s something wrong. Those aren’t my brothers.

- Nash

[2300, night cycle] we were able to get a quick transmission out before retreating back here. Grim didn’t make it. There’s only four of us left now. They’re at the door. It won’t hold long. We’re going to try hiding in the vents until help arrives. I’ve left samples of the virus, along with the rest of my notes. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it. I just hope whoever finds this will have enough time.

- Nash

Tech was unable to continue reading. He felt sick to his stomach. Within hours, they all died, then came back wrong. He turned back towards Echo, then shut his eyes tightly. Now wasn’t the time to worry, he needed to get this cure made.

But if an entire team of troopers couldn’t get it in time, how could he? He was one person, no matter how smart he was. He might have to redo everything that Nash had done and start from scratch.

He worried his lip, breaking the skin. He didn’t have time to panic and doubt his abilities, Echo needed him now. Tech practiced the breathing exercises he had taught Echo so long ago, to help with the times when he was back there. The splicer never thought he’d be needing them himself.

When he thought he was stable enough to do so, he finished searching the cabinet where he found the datapad. As stated in one of Nash’s logs, a plethora of samples were in a neat container. They contained blood samples, air quality samples, and skin tissue samples.

 He could work with this. He could do this. Tech quickly got them set up to several different machinery to test what kills them. He frowned as he thought how long that might take. At least he wouldn’t have to be present for most of it, and Nash’s findings were still there.

“Hey, Tech?” He jumped at Echo’s call. The splicer turned quickly to give the ARC his attention.

“Yes?”

“It’ll be okay.” Tesh wished he hadn’t said that. He wished he could believe that.

The door opened with a hiss.

Wrecker didn’t think he had ever ran as fast as he was now in his entire life. He was filled with more urgency than any other battlefield had given him. His brothers needed him, he needed to hurry.

He still couldn’t hear any blaster fire, and now he couldn’t even see any signs of the zombies. Tech had said something about them being smart, smart like an animal is, and Wrecker knew Tech was almost always right.

He knew the forest got quiet when there was a predator nearby; Echo had done his utmost to teach Wrecker strategy and taught him the basics like this first. The zombies were the predators, so why were they quiet now. He urged himself to think, to not just focus on barreling through the hallways.

Predators got quiet when they hunt, but if they’re in packs they chase their prey down until they got tired and could finish them off. Hunters in packs wouldn’t focus on stealth, like how the Batch usually ran in blasting unless specifically told not to. So who told the zombies to hide?

He turned a corner, tensing in case something would jump from behind. He was met with silence and shadows. Still shadows, like the water of a pond. Right now, nothing but Wrecker disturbed the water.

He slowed, the paranoia and unease getting to him. He couldn’t hear the zombies, and he couldn’t see them, but he knew they were there. He knew they could see him. So why weren’t they attacking? He was alone. He was easy prey if they outnumbered him enough. So why leave him alone?

Unless they wanted him to get to his brothers. Or to lead him away from something. Or towards something.

Wrecker brought his hand up to the side of his helmet, trying to comms for the millionth time. It was met with an irritating static. It wasn’t the kind of static where the comms weren’t working, it was the kind where the person on the other end wasn’t answering. He suppressed the urge to groan in anger. Now was one of those times where he needed to be quiet.

He was once again stumped on what to do. He wanted to find Hunter and Crosshair, to make sure they were okay. He knew deep down they would be, when those two worked together it was like fighting the force of a god, but he couldn’t help but worry.

He also wanted to go back to Tech. He had left his other brothers practically defenseless. Tech would be distracted while working on the cure and Echo… Echo wouldn’t be able to defend himself.

Kark, why was it so difficult to decide on things? Why couldn’t the answer just be handed to him, like they always were for Tech or Hunter, or really any of his brothers? Why did he have to be the one alone?

A sob built in his throat, and he clamped his mouth shut. He would not panic. He’s been alone on mission hundreds of times before, this wasn’t any different. Except in the ways that it was very different. Other than that, it was exactly the same!

He would go find his brothers, just to make sure they were okay. After that, he could bring them all to where Tech and Echo were, then they’d get the cure, and then they’d leave. That was only, like, four things. He could do this. They’d all be okay.

He jumped in place for a moment, hyping himself up to keep running, then he dashed down the dark halls.

The shadows weren’t as still anymore.

End Notes: so... any new theories on who's gonna be a zombie first, if any at all? also sorta sorry for the almost cliffhanger with this one lol, next one will have lots more gore :D

Next Chp.

NPT: @squad-724 @arctrooper69 @weyrwolfen @clownery-and-fuckery @charlieisannoying

@greyangelpain @zilvercrystal @travellingnorthwards @lifblogs @electrikworm

@buniby @thora-sniper @restrospect1003 @dizzy-9906

[blackjackkent]

Visited the necromancer's hideout under the apothecary shop in the Blighted Village.

The fight with the skeletons in the front entryway was the usual pain. They were VERY efficient about all coming out of their caskets. The funniest part of the fight was that Rakha's wild magic surge gave her the completely useless ability to speak with animals for the duration of the fight. (There were no animals anywhere in the vicinity.)

Rakha's half-orc ability to come back with one hit point the first time she goes down is doing a lot of work for her squishy self at present.

The skeletons are unsatisfying for her to kill, though. They have no blood and they are, on some level, already dead. The beast shows little interest at their violence and no pleasure at their death.

We got some sorcerer-specific stuff while trying to pass the enchanted mirror guarding the main lab.

"Speak your name."

Narrator: An enchanted mirror. Raw magic leashed to a bauble. Almost sad.

Rakha can see the way the Weave undulates over the surface of the mirror, bound into its very matter. The face that peers out of it ripples with prismatic light.

[SORCERER][ARCANA] Try to sense the magic tamed within the mirror.

Narrator: The magic is old and wavering, but you recognize it. The mirror is a thinking lock, hiding some secret. It seems some vain wizard took living magic and twisted it into a forgotten curio.

I'm intrigued by the implication here that Rakha is on some level offended by magic being used for less than sufficiently grand purposes. This is a little ironic given that her purposes for it mostly involve killing anyone who gets in her way. But it also makes a certain amount of sense - her ability to see and sense the Weave was her first (and in a lot of ways still her only) exposure to beauty or wonder in this strange mystery world she's been dropped into; to see it not treated with the proper respect is... grating.

Perhaps the wizard remains within... murmurs the beast, and he can be punished for it...

She doubts it, given the evident age and utter silence of the place. But it is possible.

We also have another option here which is uniquely interesting in Rakha's case:

Examine your appearance.

The narrator's response is funny:

Narrator: You do your best to wipe the dirt from your face and look presentable. Adventuring is murder on one's wardrobe, though.

However, leaving aside the "magic mirror" in camp for appearance adjustments (which I tend to think of as a meta thing and not actually there), Rakha has to her recollection never seen her own face until this moment.

It's not a bad face, she doesn't think. Evenly proportioned, sturdy, serious. Scarred oddly. She wonders where that came from. An orc, Gale said - or half-orc, at least - hence the tusks. And the burning, muted rage in her eyes, never quite gone even when the beast is quiet.

----

"Thoughts?" Wyll asks with a slight grin.

"You asked me what I saw when I looked at you," she says slowly, not looking away from the mirror. "And I told you."

He nods slightly. "You did."

"What do you see in me?"

He quirks an eyebrow up slowly. "A mystery," he says.

She snorts softly. "I knew that already."

He offers a slight smile. "I see someone broken and rebuilding. As I am. As we all are." He folds his arms, watching her thoughtfully. "I don't have the answer you're looking for. I wish I did."

"I know."

----

"Speak your name," repeats the mirror.

Rakha repeats a name she pulled from an old book near the mirror. "Ilyn Toth."

At once, the face goes red in warning. "My master is no filthy half-breed. You are not Ilyn Toth. If you are his ally, step forward and declare it."

"Uh-oh," she hears Gale murmur in a sing-song tone from behind her.

Rakha's jaw sets. White flares at the corners of her vision. This is her own rage, though, not the beast; there is no blood to be spilled here. But she is being mocked. She remembers the last person to call her half-breed - and the satisfying crunch of his jaw under her fist.

[INTIMIDATION] "Open, or I'll smash you to pieces," she snarls. "Bad luck be damned."

Narrator: There is a pause as those glass eyes take you in. Then...

The mirror slides open soundlessly, opening a passage to the lab beyond.

[kyogre-blue]

This awful nightmare month had FOUR paralogues. So tiring. And they don't even let me kill Flayn or Seteth! Or let me see Rhea murdering those two NPC imperial suckups. Disappointing all around.

To get my notes under the char limit, I'll put the part about the first paralogue here.

Immediately after Claude's death/deportation, we get invaded by Almyra. Holst "fell ill" but big doubt.jpg, since he does not show his face to either Hubert or Edelgard (Hubert can only comment that "it's said" that Holst looks and smells awful). The Alliance supposedly can't cooperate enough to muster forces to support the Locket, even though we just spent lots of time playing up how Claude maneuvered everything to go down with the least amount of damage possible and how the Alliance has been extremely peaceful and cooperative to our occupation and invasion. The Goneril soldiers book it immediately when we arrive, no green units for us. And at the end, Holst politely passes the duty of guarding the Locket to the Empire. Which is another way of saying he refused to do it anymore, possibly on account of the dead little sister. You know, just maybe.

This is hilarious in general, and you can read all kinds of funny things into it, especially since this is the route where the game lies to you all the time with a straight face, so you are free to interpret practically all things you're told as complete bullshit (and you'll be provably right at least half the time).

Personally, I think it's very funny to assume everyone who says the Alliance occupation is going oh so well is either wrong or lying. I mean, sure, Claude supposedly arranged it so things would go peacefully whether he won or lost, BUT he was wrong at least twice about his allies surrendering peaceably and his dying words are about how he misread the entire situation. Yeah, logically this is all structured to contrast how the Kingdom and the Church won't go down as peacefully, but it's funnier if the Alliance is also not peaceful about this at all.

Almyra certainly is not looking like a future friendly neighbor, despite Edie's optimistic outlook.

Live blogging:

Hubert reports that Thales has started collecting the Relics from the Alliance (cool! definitely not a problem! Hilda wasn't casually able to oneshot everyone with that awful axe!)

He also suggests that we have one of our Lions recruits pretend to be a hostage to force their family to betray the Kingdom. Lovely man, so practical.

Byleth: you're using too many Proper Nouns, I can't keep tracks :( Edelgard: don't worry about it, kitten

Nader's in good spirits, at least. The Almyran forces have a lot of wyverns, mounted archers and also giant birds.

Edelgard thinks we can befriend Almyra, she would even consider a treaty. It's not a land ruled by blind fealty to the goddess (lol), so as long as communicate openly and respect the differences between our cultures... OK. We're not gonna mention Claude at all, which is funny.

Next paralogue! Hubie is investigating Solon, Kronya and Arundel. He wants to know their identities, their origins, their numbers, their base of operations, their plans, and where they acquired their dark powers, how they disguise themselves. He calls them "those who slither in the dark."

Now, working backwards from this, it means that he doesn't know these things in early war phase (where we are now), unless we assume he got further in his investigations in other routes.

Also, as has been pointed out, although this is a descriptive name that Hubert came up with, it's also used by Rhea for some reason.

It's a shame that Arundel is just Thales, he has a pretty nice design.

Hubert calls Arundel "Regent" even now. Weird!

We're sent to help some Agarthans who were experimenting in the Sealed Forest but their demonic beast subjects ran wild. Hubert later suggests that this was all a setup to make Edie's faction feel powerless in the face of the Agarthans' experiment (because they are aware Hubert is investigating them), but it backfired because Hubie isn't intimidated at all. He's looking forward to when Edelgard finished uniting Fodlan, and then House Vestra will fight the Agarthans in the shadows. (Hilarious from a narrative standpoint.)

Incidentally, you only need to save more than half the mages to get Arrow of Indra. The "Mysterious Mages" that you save also do not have Agarthan Technology abilities unlike the shapeshifters. Ladislava is popular with the citizens of the empire. She doesn't put up airs, is talented and also beautiful. She's known as the Scarlet Warrior.

There isn't much unrest in the former Alliance territories, perhaps thanks to Caspar's dad's strength (aka keeping them in line by force).

Riegan was once a branch family of Blaiddyd, which is very mysterious given their different crests.

Ladislava's troops depart at the end of the month (February) to the western front. They have high mobility. iirc she's a wyvern rider.

It's a bit funny to get the quest for the Almyran merchant same month as the Almyra invasion paralogue.

Claude told Lysithea roughly that she shouldn't focus too much on whether they win. Unlike Judith and Hilda, she listened lol.

Hubert hanging out in the Deer classroom, thinking about Claude. Relatable. He says that Claude has a compassionate exterior, but underneath is cold and calculating. Harsh! Also, not really in line with Claude's behavior toward his allies.

Linhardt says that there's a passage from the Holy Mausoleum to the Holy Tomb, but he can't figure out the mechanism. It's not really clear where the Holy Tomb is, and I've seen the speculation that it's under the amiibo gazebo... but the Holy Mausoleum is in the cathedral, so the two being connected... it's possible both are true, but kinda weird if so.

Dorothea: They'll write operas about this... I'm sure a pretty actress will play you :) And Edie :)) Maybe they'll throw in a love story :)))) hahaha (extremely awkward laugh)

Just realized you steal Zoltan's idol from the advisory room in the cathedral. Nice.

Hubert and Edie A: He emphasizes again that he's devoted to her due to personal feelings but also that he's not loyal in the sense of following her orders. He does what he thinks is best and if Edie disagrees, or doesn't like it, or is kept in the dark for her own good, well, that's how it is. He also mentions that his devotion became personal after Edie returned from the Kingdom, which calls back to how he and Ionius treat it as some kind of malicious kidnapping.

Petra paralogue: Church is threatening Brigid :( Well, per the Empire's perspective. Catherine is here <3

Jokes aside, Petra's perspective is interesting. Brigid is trapped between the Empire and Dagda, and they don't have the ability to stand against either one. They were dragged into war with the Empire by Dagda, which they then lost, and Petra's father was even killed. So they became a vassal state of the Empire, but given the whole racism issue, they probably were not in a good position. So Petra is focused on basically proving that Brigid is a useful and valuable ally for the Empire. Which is a rather practical approach.

Leonie paralogue... Interesting details that you need recommendations to get into Officers Academy. In the Alliance this means paying nobles to get them. Raphael mentions that his family sold their business to pay for him, iirc, since he wasn't up to running it anyway. Ignatz's parents are more successful, so perhaps they could just afford it. Leonie's entire village had to chip in to buy her way in. Presumably Ashe was sent by Lonato directly (though interesting choice given that the uprising happens very early in the year, so he must have already been planning it). I think the only other commoner is Dorothea, who... well.

Linhardt brings up the crests perpetuate the nobility angle and says to take it up with the Goddess for handing them out like that. But given where Leicester crests actually came from... sigh

Linhardt read about the legend of Saint Indech, so it's free real estate for any other character to read in an AU. Very nice.

Lake Teutates... Indech is a giant turtle. Man, these "dragons" are all kinds of shapes lmao. He attacks with water spikes.

Leonie calls the Immovable One a "magic beast" which we haven't seen so far, only wild beasts and demonic beasts.

Linhardt immediately caught on that the Immovable One is Saint Indech.

Petra has been in Fodlan for 9 years as of the war phase, so she came 3 years before the Academy.

Garreg Mach can be entered from the north by following Aillel, the Valley of Torment.

The map this time is a modified version of the monastery defense map from end of Academy Phase and second battle of the other routes. Previously, I didn't realize that the right hand third is gone. Presumably, this is the gorge that Byleth fell into...

We're fighting an expeditionary force led by Alois, while Rhea and Catherine hold off the rest of our army at the Sealed Forest. Aaah, they're so cool <3 They're also set up an ambush.

OK, so the situation with Flayn and Seteth is that they just retreat when defeated, regardless of who fights them. I thought there would be some scene about specifically sparing them, but nah. They just leave on their own. You don't even have any unique dialogue with Seteth, and Flayn just talks about how she won't kill you since she owes you her life.

Rhea murdered the heck out of Ladislava and Randolph off-screen. Shame, I would have loved to see it.

We killed Alois tho! He felt that, since we betrayed Rhea, Jeralt would not have approved.

[illegally-blind-and-deaf]

OK ANASTASIA AND DMITRI HEADCANONS BECAUSE ILTSM (both musical and movie they've merged in my head)

- Dmitri doesn't know how to read. Which makes sense when you remember that he grew up in Imperial and Soviet Russia, so for someone of the working class it was very common to be uneducated. Anya is very determined to change that.

- Anya teaching Dmitri French is utterly hilarious because of one word. That word being "The." Dmitri yelling at a dictionary about WHY THERE ARE SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS TO SAY ONE WORD and WHY DOES THAT WORD EVEN EXIST IT DOESN'T NEED TO EXIST WE DON'T HAVE IT IN RUSSIAN and also WHY ARE HALF THE LETTERS SILENT THAT'S THE MOST RIDICULOUS THING I'VE EVER HEARD and we couldn't forget WHY ARE THE LETTERS MAKING DIFFERENT SOUNDS??? WHY IS Н MAKING AN 'N' SOUND AND И MAKING AN 'I' SOUND ANYA I CAN ONLY LEARN ONE LANGUAGE AT ONCE STOP LAUGHING AT MY PAIN-

- Three words. Dmitri, Paris, Chocolate. Really anything that's not stale bread and cabbage in water but specifically chocolate. He's really cautious at first because obviously he's never had any in his life and he takes a bite and just- melts into nothing because it is the single-most delicious thing he had ever ingested and can he please have more- It's safe to say that he downed three entire chocolate bars in the space of 93 minutes and had no regrets.

- Anya spends a ridiculous amount of time orchestrating various pranks on Vlad and Dmitri because why not? The ones with Vlad were always really nice and friendly, like surprising him by speaking with him only in french, or making him think something was wrong so he'd go to the ballroom and find the gramaphone set up ready to play a polka. Dmitri was no spared any mercy. He got the trip sure, the fake spiders (he screamed bloody murder and Anya was dying of laughter for a solid ten minutes,) he got the sack of lentils that was actually full of rocks so when he went to bed it was... not pleasant. Hey, she was a wild child. (The pranks still persisted even after they got married, just not as mean... except for the spiders.)

- For some reason, idk why, but Dmitri seems like an artsy painter person. He doesn't think he is, but then he tries it and realises that he is very observant in the way light chances the hue of different objects and in how to catch the small things that make art lifelike. His favourite art style is a little cartoon that he does on the edges of notebooks and journals like a flipbook which keeps him entertained for ages.

- Dmitri likes flowers. Nuff said. Anya just buys him flowers constantly. The bigger and gaufier they are, the better. When questioned why, he simply says "they're pretty and I like pretty things."

- As much as Anya hated having to practice as a child, she is very talented at music. They have an old, 2nd hand upright that lives in the corner of their living room and when Anya gets the time she plays a little something on the piano. Sometimes it's a classic piece she learnt years ago that muscle memory still remembers or a little jazz that she's learning, or sometimes she just plays around with what sounds nice.

- Because I don't think Anya and Dima went back to Russia (because that's dumb why go back to the place that's trying to kill you,) Anya becomes a schoolteacher in France teaching English. The kids love her because she's firm but gentle and helps them all no matter what and sometimes gives them little treats if they've been very good. There was a rumor (in St Petersburg???) going around about a tall, brooding man that no one seemed to know who always looked grumpy and never spoke and many of the kids scared each other by theorizing that he was an evil spy coming to steal their food and toys. Imagine the shock they all felt when he knocked on the door one day with a satchel in hand and sheepishly smiles at Anya, who takes it with a smile, mutters something in a foreign language that was not English or French, and then KISSES HIM ON THE CHEEK????? SILENT MYSTERIOUS EVIL MAN GETS A KISS FROM SWEET, KIND FAIRY TEACHER????? Anya then explains that no he's not going to steal their food and toys and that he is in fact really sweet and he does speak but he's very self-councious because he's not fluent and his accent is thick and also he is her husband. SILENT MYSTERIOUS EVIL MAN ISN'T ACTUALLY SILENT EVIL AND MYSTERIOUS AND IS MARRIED TO SWEET KIND FAIRY TEACHER!?!?!??!

that's all for today folks до свидания (do svidanya) and dont die

[chen-chen-chen-again-chen]

Hi, hello, hola! Thank you for the tag today, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe! Instead of six sentences, today I bring you "six somethings" - six places I'm excited to eat while I'm in London (March 24-April 7)!

If anyone has any recommendations for favourite places to eat in London, PLEASE let me know! 🍽️😋

I'll tag up here because this post is a long boi. Hello hello hello to a buncha folks! @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias @cutestkilla @thewholelemon @dohrnaira @ebbpettier @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @ionlydrinkhotwater @imagineacoolusername @larkral @raenestee @onepintobean @theimpossibledemon @whogaveyoupermission @tectonicduck

6.) Pret (Heathrow)

I know Shepard loses his tiny mind over the sandwiches from Pret, but. I dream of their Chocolate Moose. I have an absurd amount of food allergies, so finding a Chen-friendly, ready made chocolate mousse is a dream come true. So excited to cram it into my face after I clear Customs.

From My Good Egg, Good morning, good night, good morning:

“All right.” Simon goes back to fiddling with Bunce’s phone, and then he says to Bunce, hopeful, “Any chance you brought the rest of my baguette from Pret?”

Bunce says, slowly and carefully, “Simon. I do not know the whereabouts of your airport sandwich. I was rather busy figuring out where you had disappeared to.” 

5.) Borough Market

I have very fond memories of Borough Market from the first/last time I visited London back in 2018. I remember sticking my head in a jar full of dried truffles and just inhaling all that amazing, savoury, umami truffly goodness. (Like, you know, the way that normal humans do.)

From What's Left by @cutestkilla:

I’ve been hanging around Borough Market quite a bit, and I’ve had everything from cheese and croissants to chorizo and balsamic vinegar (in small sample portions only). I think, though, that my favourite thing so far was a fresh buttered wild garlic scone that I bought with some of my stolen money after trying a sample.

4.) MotherMash (Covent Garden)

I also had a good time with a pal at MotherMash years ago - I think instead of pie, I had bangers and mash with gravy, and a tiny, perfect apple pie. My spouse has never been here, but he does frequently say, "I would like to eat a whole pie," and now he will be able to eat TWO pies - one for his main, and one for dessert.

From A cake with your name on it:

Baz was still fuming about the tasting when we met up at his flat for dinner. We had takeaway from MotherMash, and Baz kept stabbing his steak and Stoutheart pie instead of eating it. 

“I’ve never met such an idiot,” he said. “A bumbler. A fool. An absolute nightmare.” 

“Okay,” I said. “We still have that list from my mother with three other bakeries.” 

Baz whipped his head around to stare at me. 

“No,” he said, loudly. Too loudly. He was oddly flushed. “I don’t care if I have to murder and then resurrect him - Simon Snow is making our wedding cake.” 

3.) Brick Lane Beigel Bake (Shoreditch)

I asked my spouse, EarlobeGreyTea, what he wanted to do or eat or see while we're in London and all he would say, over and over again, was "Bagel." He is a remarkably easygoing travel companion.

From an earlier draft of My Good Egg, which ended up getting cut/changed:

They get to Brick Lane before Baz can embarrass himself any further, and he waits outside of a bagel shop until Simon comes out with a salt beef bagel crammed into his mouth, and a very full paper bag. “This one’s for you,” he says, holding out a salmon and cream cheese bagel to Baz. 

Baz takes it, but doesn’t bite into it right away. “Thank you,” he says, slowly, thinking that maybe offering food is one of Simon’s love languages as well, along with killing things. The rats seem to be a lucky intersection. 

2.) E Pellici's (Bethnal Green)

I think my favourite full English breakfast that I ever had was at Pellici's, which is tiny and and owned by an Italian family. The owner spent most of the time I was there embarrassing one of his teenage employees and a girl who was interviewing him for a school project. The owner high fived me when I bought a t-shirt and he went slack-jawed at my powerful, resounding high five. It was great.

From an unpublished bit of My Good Egg:

In the car, Baz passes both slices of fruitcake to Simon, and Simon practically dances in his seat. 

“Are you sure?” Simon asks, “like, really, really sure? Cause I’m telling you, this is really fucking amazing fruitcake, and you can’t buy it most of the time unless you order it special - they don’t even have it on the menu anymore.” “They’re yours, Simon,” Baz says. Honestly, Simon Snow is impossible. He was ready to kill a man for Baz, or not kill a man for him, and now he’s beaming at Baz because of some fruitcake. He needs to pin Simon to a mattress and keep him there — with handcuffs, with a collar, with a ring.

1.) Dishoom (King's Cross)

Dishoom is like... truly magical. That house black daal is no joke. I lack words to describe how amazing the food is - just check out their site (but honestly, it will make you hungry). Everything I've ever had there was fucking delicious and the place and the atmosphere is so gorgeous, just lush and colourful and immersive.

I shared another snippet before about Dishoom from My Good Egg, but here's Simon on the phone with Agatha right after he's ordered takeaway:

“Hey Ags. How’re you – no, I’m not bleeding or throwing up or on fire. I – yeah, I know you said not to call you when you’re at work unless I was bleeding or throwing up or on fire, but this is an – look, it’s not for me this time, all right? Or Penny. It’s for a friend – okay, rude, I have friends other than you and Penny!” Pause. “Yes, Agatha, we’re friends, even if you – yeah, I know you said you would never do another house visit, but you said that the last time, too!” 

Baz leans back so he can catch Bunce’s eyes, and mouths, What the fuck?  

Bunce just rolls her eyes and shrugs, like, He’s Simon, what can you do about it?  

“Well,” Simon says, triumphant, “we already ordered the daal for you, so there!” Pause. “Yeah, love you too. Bye.”  

RIPs & Honourable Mentions

Cinnamon Soho (also mentioned in "A cake with your name on it") - They closed down during the pandemic. But they had a delicious Indian afternoon tea 🥲

Cereal Killer Cafe - This place was rec'd to me by one of my British co-workers (his seven kids were mad for it), but sadly, they closed their storefront during the pandemic and went online. (In my headcanon, this was where Winifred from My Good Egg wanted to go for her(?) first(?) birthday)

Fortnum & Mason - I WILL be going here to buy tea and biscuits (and to replace one of my favourite tote bags, LOL), but not for high tea or afternoon tea. (We have a few other places lined up for that, including The Swan at the Globe and Tea House Theatre). Sorry, Daphne!

Nando's - I suggested to my spouse that we should get cheeky Nando's and have top bants and he gave me a dead-eyed look as if his soul left his body

Again, if you have any recommendations of favourite places to eat in London, please let me know!

I mean, I suppose I'll be doing other things besides eating, like hanging out with my beautiful friends, going to stationery shops, visiting the flower market, seeing shows and things... but really, food is the main draw. 😂😂😂

Happy Sunday!

[amourem]

a meta for fyodor on language and love language as well as one on immortality gogogo

FYODOR  (  on  language  )

given  his  age  and  apparently  prolific  presence  across  the  globe  -  fyodor  is  fluent  in...  a  staggering  amount  of  languages  and  intermediate  in  even  more.  obviously  -  russian  is  his  mother  tongue,  specifically  the  central  dialect,  though  he  can  occasionally  be  seen  slipping  into  the  southern  as  well.  he  is  fluent  in  all  prominent  slavic  languages,  though  spends  most  of  his  time  speaking  russian,  ukrainian,  polish,  and  czech.  on  occasion  -  he  will  slip  into  a  much  older  dialect/version  of  russian  (  referred  to  as  old  russian  /  old  east  slavic  ),  though  this  is  usually  when  he  doesn't  think  anyone  is  around,  etc.  

he  has  mastered  all  five  romance  languages  with  ease  (and  quite  enjoys  french  and  romanian  in  particular)  considering  he spent  a  good  chunk  of  his  life  reading  exclusively  latin.  english  is  another  widely  spoken  one,  alongside  farsi,  mandarin,  cantonese,  korean  and  finally:  japanese.  he  is,  however,  pretty  bad  at  writing  in  it.  his  knowledge  of  language  is  vast  -  but  he  is  by  no  means  an  expert  in  all,  and  still  speaks  most  of  them  with  a  bit  of  a  russian  lilt.  

FYODOR  (  on  love  language  )  -  aside  from  murder  and  manipulation.

i  spent  a  really  long  time  in  the  shower  thinking  about  this  one  and  i  have  decided  that  fyodor's  'love'  language  is  very  specific.  i  think  i  would  describe  it  as  a  combination  of  words  of  affirmation,  and  physical  touch.  HOWEVER  -  the  problem  is  with  a  man  like  fyodor,  he  simply  does  not  trust.  at  all.  anyone.  ever.  he  relies  solely  on  himself  and  has  thrived  that  way  for  quite  some  time.  you  say  a  kind  word  to  him,  and  his  nature  is  to  immediately  assume  an  ulterior  motive.  the  trick  is  to  get  him  to  listen  -  to  understand,  to  even  remotely  consider  the  words  being  said  to  him  are  not,  in  fact,  a  lie.  

the  biggest  one  though  is  physical  touch.  i  mean,  that's  if  he'll  even  LET  you  touch  him.  he's  killed  men  for  looking  wrong  or  brushing  against  him  in  a  grocery  store.  but  fyodor  is  gratuitously  touch  starved  and  he  has  no  idea  that  he  is  until  he  does.  while  not  particularly  tactile  -  i  do  think  that  even  he  can  find  that  literally  just  sitting  next  to  someone  he  likes  might  be  a  wild  experience.  

but  anytime  he  attempt  to  'engage'  one  of  fyodor's  love  languages  -  you  are  essentially  playing  roulette  on  whether  or  not  he  will  deign  to  accept  the  advance,  or  eat  you  alive.  

FYODOR  (  on  immortality  )

i  don't  want  to  go  TOO  in  depth  about  this  but  fyodor  has...  beef  with  his  immortality.  fyodor  is  driven  to  believe  that  ability  users  are  beings  of  sin  because  of  his  own  existence.  he  is  essentially  the  equivalent  of  having  lived  his  life  with  all  the  religious  dutifulness  of  a  saint,  looks  forward  to  going  to  heaven,  but  the  first  time  he  dies  he  just  discovers  that  god  spit  him  back  out  again  and  left  him  on  this  mortal  plane  to  rot.  each  death  warps  fyodor's  perception  a  little  further  -  until  he  comes  to  some  conclusions:

his  ability  makes  him  a  sinner,  as  he  cannot  commit  to  gods  natural  order  and  die.  it  is  also  possible  he  thinks  himself  a  sinner  due  to  some  events  in  his  past  (witch  burnings,  etc)  but  we  don't  know  yet.  additionally  -  because  god  keeps  spitting  him  back  out  again,  he  must  have  a  grand  plan  for  him.  very  well  then  -  he  will  use  his  immortality  for  good,  and  shepherd  the  people  to  a  sinless  existence  for  a  benevolent  god.  again  -  i  want  to  reiterate.  HUMAN  BEINGS  ARE  NOT  MEANT  TO  DIE  AND  COME  BACK  REPEATEDLY.  he  likely  has  not  always  been  this  warped  (but  he  is  now  evil  little  rat  man).  

anyways  -  'crime'  and  'punishment.'  the  crime?  killing  him.  the  punishment?  subsumed.  yet  fyodor's  immortality  has  brought  him  boundless  pain.  a  hundred  lifetimes  and  a  hundred  deaths  -  where  he  watched  humanity  be  it's  worst,  where  people  have  betrayed  him  ceaselessly  (how  could  he  trust  now),  where  he  has  been  miserable  but  fulfilling  his  duty  nonetheless,  no  matter  how  many  times  god  chooses  to  forsake  him.  

in  essence  -  fyodor  wishes  for  his  immortality  to  end,  but  he  has  work  to  finish  first.  

[loderlied]

i am so sorry for the amount i am about to send you. general 5, 8, and 9. story specific 1, 5, 10, and 11? you dont have to answer all of them lmao

zeke’s story will never be at full potential without the durge stuff and you didn’t ask for any durge related ones so i will just pretend that he’s still the most specialest bhaalbabe ever just as a companion lol. i’m gonna excuse this self-indulgence by reminding myself that i heard that default durge was supposed to be a companion early in development? anyways.

5. Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions?

surprisingly it would be pretty hard to get rid of him once you invited him to travel along with you. i wrote a little fic about this scenario a while ago and he’s just a massive self-centered dick when you recruit him but he’s also so insanely confused. not even mentioning the memory loss, he’s a sheltered, paranoid, stressed to hell and back guy who’s being exposed to a new environment and he’s clinging to anything that makes his confusion a little easier—zeke doesn’t know a life without being led by someone, so even if he thinks your leadership is lofty he’ll probably stick around for a while at least, even if you don’t exactly want him around, like a cockroach infestation.

8. What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp?  How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?

“Pah, y-you think you and your sorry excuse for a brain up there would survive for A SECOND without my expertise? S-Suit yourself. “ *looks away from player pouting*

“Aha, aha, look who’s here again! Knew you’d crawl back to me. Yes, I suppose I could consider coming with you… Just say the words ‘You were right, Zeke.’ and my mastermind is at your side again. He-Hey! Wait! Don’t leave! For fucks sake, I’m right behind you…”

9. Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?

oh god of course. it’s zeke hello. first off we have karlach.

act 1: i think after you’ve traveled with them both for a bit and have beaten the “paladins”/she has revealed her backstory, you get a scene in which you approach zeke like usual but see that his eye is completely blue and bruised, and if you press him he says “that brute devil attacked him for merely trying to have a conversation with her. his fault really, for assuming that she’d be good at anything but mindlessly bashing people’s heads in” (wild statement to make with 6 cha lol) if you then question karlach about it you find out that he was actually incessantly pestering her with questions about her past, completely disregarding her trauma or or discomfort. (this is because his like brain like. tingling? at the gortash mention but he doesn’t know that yet so neither does the player)

act 2/3: so, i haven’t used karlach beyond act 1 yet because i attacked the grove with zeke, so i can’t include anything about her personal quest, but i think they’d sort of. hesitantly grow together over act 2, only for that to get shattered on the big reveal tm at the coronation. there’s so much that can be said about this and i’m already rambling like crazy so i’m gonna summarize: karlach gets super duper fucking pissed, but also is probably smart enough to notice how gortash hurt zeke, not how he hurt her but not any less cruel, when zeke’s mental health starts to deteriorate after reuniting with him. so you can keep them in the party for a while longer together—until zeke straight up tries to murder karlach for being a threat to gortash in a weird panic attack induced mania. he will not have anyone steal his kill. you can either kill him then, let him kill karlach, or knock him out and send him away, but you cannot keep him in your party if you don’t kill karlach.

uugh yikes. shart time!

these bitches are also fighting tm. zeke in the early days essentially sees her as a rubik’s cube to solve, a way to distract himself from his own memory loss by seeking recognition in hers. so while his pestering of her is out of genuine interest, it’s certainly not any less annoying.

zeke also has a complicated relationship with shar. he can get behind the “shadows” aspect, loves those as a stalker, but he has the chronic need to solve mysteries, uncover secrets, know everything, so sharrans are obviously not to keen on him lmao

1. How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor?

zeke is incredibly distrusting of. well. anything really, so he will advise you to be wary, but he is also smart enough to realize that what they’re saying about them being the only reason they’re protected from the absolute is most likely true, so he tells you to keep them around for as long as they’re useful.

5. How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power?

asks you how it feels to be one step closer to squid town, then dismissively waves his hand and probably makes a comment how it’ll be fine: there’s not much up there to burrow into anyway. if your approval with him is high he’ll still say that line but sound notably different—louder, more venom, stuttering a lot more, trying to overcompensate for his clear worry for you.

10. How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar?

wants a bite! zeke is a full body investigator, meaning that he’s not above licking and sniffing everything that seems even mildly intriguing to him lol

11. What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown?

you don’t get approval or disapproval, when you first prompt him to go he remarks something along the lines of “of course you’d pick me! not like the audience would cheer for any of the other losers in our party” but when you actually force him he’s really nervous lol “o-obviously every good comedian re-rehearses their jokes before! wh-what? no i can improvise, it’s just- well- i’d be at an obvious disadvantage…” and so on lmao